Beneath the Dover Sky by Murray Pura

Author:Murray Pura
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780736952897
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers, Inc.

Dover Sky

Kipp finally spotted her shoeprints in the mud by the small stream under the willows. She hadn’t been at the pond or any of the fieldstone fences and he’d been about to head back to the manor when he thought of the willows.

She loves trees but especially the willows at her family’s estate.

There he saw her sitting by the stream.

“Caroline.”

She didn’t move.

“Caroline. I’m back from Africa. It’s been years.”

Still she didn’t move.

“I’m sorry. It’s been more like forever. No letters. No cables. But I need to talk to you alone.”

She remained like stone.

“What’s happened?”

He ran towards her. She suddenly turned her head and brandished the dagger at him.

“Get back, Kipp. I have to do this. At least four cuts to the face. I just haven’t had the nerve.”

“Caroline, have you gone mad? Give me that knife!”

He lunged, but she put the dagger to her throat. “I’ll do it. I don’t care anymore. Life is nothing but a great darkness.”

“No, it’s not. I want to talk to you. I want to start again.”

Her laugh was harsh. “Oh, I knew you’d say that. You don’t look like Kipp – you’ve lost too much weight and your skin is as dark as mud – but you sound just like him. More promises. I’m not interested. And when I’m done with my face you won’t be interested either.”

“Caroline, please don’t. You’re so beautiful –”

She laughed again. “My famous beauty. What good has it ever done me? Broken heart after broken heart. You called me a whore.”

“I was a fool. I was worse than a fool. God forgive me. Christelle was right.”

“Christelle, ah, Christelle, what was she right about?” Caroline put the point of the dagger against her cheek. “You won’t love me without a face you can kiss, Kipp Danforth.”

“Don’t!”

He tried to seize the dagger a second time but she thrust it at her throat again.

“I’ll finish myself off, Kipp, I swear it. Stay back.”

“All right. Do it. Go ahead, do it. I’ll join you.” Kipp brought a pocketknife from his pants pocket and flipped it open. He put it to his cheek. “If you can cut your face to ribbons, so can I. I’m to blame for your misery. So if you’re going to do four cuts, I’ll do eight.”

“You won’t!”

“I will!”

“Stop it, Kipp!”

“Who do you think I thought about when I flew from the Orkneys to Cape Town? You and Chris. Who did I think about after I crash landed in the Sahara and was half crazy with thirst? You and Chris. All the fighting I’ve done with the French Foreign Legion in Morocco, all the heat and flies and bullets and killing; who was on my mind hour after hour, day after day? You and Chris.”

Caroline saw him press down on the knife. She shrieked and threw herself at Kipp, twisting the pocketknife out of his hand with a fierce burst of strength and flinging it into the trees. He seized her dagger hand and they fell to the ground,

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